obsolete
by symphonies of you
Summary: "Love is just a figment of one's own imagination; it only exists for those that wish to placate their minds with fractured fabrications of bliss. It is not real." jamesdominique -for rach and lit.


For the Song of the Day Prompts, 07 March.

Dedicated to Rachel (shut away) and Starlit (george's firework) because i just love them and jamesdominique is also their cousincest otp.

**Disclaimer: Don't own. JKR does.**

**pairing: **jamesdominique

**song: **little bird by ed sheeran

**prompts: **superfluous, blackberry, intimacy

* * *

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_but if I kiss you, will your mouth read this truth?_

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She didn't believe in love. So she should have known, she should have known that starting something with her younger—albeit ruggedly handsome—cousin would end in heartbreak and tears and ashes of memories piled up in the frayed corners of her mind. She should have known that he'd get tired of her and toss her aside like she was just a damaged, insignificant doll. Just another one of his superfluous dolls. But she was a Gryffindor, willing to take chances, risks, falls.

Reckless. Strong-minded. Stubborn. Everyone knew that Dominique Gabrielle Weasley was inevitably fearless at heart with a knowing reckless smile and mischievous grey eyes to boot, but no one ever imagined that she'd ever break, that she'd ever dare to date James Sirius Potter, that she'd ever dive into such a forbidden relationship such as that.

* * *

_She took some of the ashes in her right palm, letting the memories seep through her fingers._

* * *

She was seventeen when she first noticed him under an oak tree surrounded by gaggles of girls at sixteen, when she actually _saw _him like other girls did. It was like a veil had been removed and she finally understood why the majority of the girl population was enamoured by him, in all his cocky and confident and suave glory. She knew it wouldn't work, she knew it even _then_. But she plastered a seductive smile emanating her Veela charm that she possessed—don't forget, she _was_ part-Veela and enjoyed utilising her influence on the boys at school—and walked toward him in what all of the boys called "her sexy walk." She had whispered in his ear, "Meet me under this tree at midnight," and walked away with a satisfied smile on her face.

And they did, later that night. She remembered walking along the banks of the Black Lake glittering like obsidian under the soft moonlight. She remembered glancing up at him with an arched eyebrow and amused smirk as he nervously bit his lower lip, looking so damn _adorable_. Crikey, she never thought she'd use the word 'adorable' to describe James Sirius Potter, but she did because he _was _in that particular moment.

They met every night after that one, engaging in discussions and rambling on about nothing. But there was one night that changed everything, turned everything upside down and altered her perception of everything. One night that she'd never let go.

They stood under that memorable oak tree where she'd first (and successfully) used her Veela charm on him. A little half-smile appeared upon the curve of her lips as she recalled his hazel eyes widening and his shell-shocked face. But, of course, he had quickly recovered from the initial shock of her sly approach and his confident poise returned with a comeback infused with a tone of "I'm-playing-hard-to-get" from his perfect, full lips. Oh yes, the two of them both could play the game.

He was gazing down at her—_shite, when did her younger cousin get so tall?_—with an intense, smoulder look etched onto his tanned face, causing an unexpected shiver to travel down her spine. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, leaving her lips tingling.

He tasted like blackberries, like forbidden fruit.

With her knees slightly quivering and pink flooding her cheeks, she was at first indignant that _he _could have that startling sort of effect on her when it was supposed to be the other way around. But when her lust-filled mind realised that his lips were slowly escaping hers, she pulled his face down towards hers and her mouth met his in a searing, unforgettable kiss that sent warmth to every part of her hormone-ridden body. They both had the uncontrollable urge to have every part of their bodies touching each other; he pushed her against the grooved trunk of the tree and held the back of her head with his right hand, deepening the kiss. They fit together like puzzle pieces, they trembled against each other, never wanting this electrifying kiss to end. This wasn't only lust now; it was also something else, something else indefinable, indescribable.

She had never felt this way before, not with other boys.

And it couldn't possibly be love, but if it wasn't love, what was it? Love is just a figment of one's own imagination, it only exists for those that wish to placate their minds with fractured fabrications of bliss. _It is not real_.

Love is not real. Why do those four words now sound so unconvincing to her heart? He was weaving his nimble, callused fingers through her soft auburn locks, and his tongue lightly traced her bottom lip, causing her to uncharacteristically moan and arch her body against his. Godric, what was he _doing _to her? He smirked against her lips and said into her mouth, "I'm not the only one around here with charm and _experience_, y'know.

They abruptly broke away, breathing hard due to the lack of oxygen. His forehead was pressed against hers, and their noses barely touched as his blue eyes met her grey, their cheeks flushed from the intensity of their connection.

"You shouldn't fool around with girls that often, James Sirius," she teased.

"Hypocrite," he muttered, "What is this we're feeling? I've never felt this before—this insane amount of euphoria comparable to the state of my mind when I'm wasted."

"I dunno…d'you reckon it could be…be _love_?" she hesitantly murmured, her overconfident, bad girl façade having vanished.

He scoffed and dismissed her answer. "Love? That's a load of rubbish. You shouldn't believe in that sort of stuff, Dominique."

"Right, of course. Love is for the weak," she responded with a cat-like grin and stood on her tiptoes to bridge the gap between their lips again.

For some reason, her heart throbbed, disagreeing with the nonchalant words that carelessly spilled from her lips.

* * *

_The wind was relentless. It would not let her hold onto a certain memory for fear of more pain. But surely she could not hurt more than she was hurting now._

* * *

"Do you ever think whatever this is between us is _wrong_? We're cousins…and, well, that in itself is self-explanatory," he mused, with a curious glint present in his ocean-blue eyes.

She loved staring into his eyes, however corny that may sound. They were just so entrancing, so captivating with such a strong magnetic pull that drew her into swirling depths of ocean-blue. And they made her sound like a bloody _poet_ whilst describing his eyes. Godric, he's going to be the death of her.

"Sure, it's wrong. But that's what makes this more fun, isn't it? Everything about us being alluringly _forbidden_?" she replied with a relaxed yet somehow twisted smile.

They were in his dormitory, empty with the exception of themselves. It was a miracle that they were not snogging, but she enjoyed mundane conversations with him all the same because it let her forget that they couldn't be together, that their being together defies everything they stand for. It let her forget that they were just biding their time, waiting until they got tired of each other; they already knew the outcomes of this ordeal. And yet they still try—the truth of it all, the future seemed so unclear.

"Merlin, why are you so damn beautiful, Dominique? This isn't fair that you're my _cousin_," he muttered with a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at the walls of gold surrounding them.

"Well, obviously, I inherited a bit of the Veela traits from my mother," she trailed off. Her cheeks colouring a bit at his rare compliment and the heart-stopping way his eyes were now fixed upon her. Feeling self-conscious in his presence was now normality to her even though it was uncomfortable being the helpless one at times. She detested feeling helpless, losing confidence; she was all about confidence—she _radiated _confidence. She was confidence personified. And so was he, but he had the upper hand in this relationship—or whatever this thing they had could be labelled as.

"Bollocks. You'd be beautiful _without _Veela traits," he responded with unusual ardour, making her knees go weak at the sound of his low voice.

She was about to thank him—no boy had ever called her beautiful and meant it at the same time—when his lips crashed onto hers, colliding, melding together beautifully and perfectly like they were _meant to be_. He backed her up into the wall; she gasped at the passion and desperation that he released into this, and she reciprocated his actions, filling the air with fervour.

Her heartbeat stopped.

She was in _love_ with James Sirius Potter.

Angling her mouth to taste him better, she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing them even closer to each other than before, if that was possible. With her arms laced around his neck, she threaded her fingers through his softsoft_soft _jet-black hair. He groaned at her compulsiveness, and her lips curved into a triumphant smile against his lips.

Somehow continuing the kiss, he staggered over to his bed, with her attached to him all the while, and placed both of them on the bed with him lying on top of her. Oh Godric, his body on top of hers, every inch of him all around her, it was pure bliss. He halted their kiss, stopping to unbutton his shirt and pull it above his head; she removed her sheer top as well, both of them discarding their tops onto the carpeted floor. Their mouths were begging to meet again, and meet they did. Engaging in a frenzied kiss that felt like their last one, she ran her hands over his hard abdomen, ran them over his toned arms. He frantically unclasped her bra and flung it out of the way, feeling her breasts and sucking on her bottom lip. These moments were filled with so much longing and need and want and everything in between. He planted hot (perfect) kisses down her neck, his lips moving in a rather fascinating pattern that enthralled her, that was branded into her pale skin.

"Are you sure about this, Dominique?" he whispered into her mouth with a throaty voice. She responded by kissing him even more deeply, an ardent response that screamed _yes_.

Everything else that separated their entire bodies from one another was cast away as they explored each other. Her legs were entangled with his on top of the rumpled bed sheets, and he kneaded her bum, her legs. And oh Godric, it was glorious. It was _undeniably_ _glorious_. The vortex, the flurry of emotions and thoughts and unspoken words was spinning around in her dazed mind; the intimacy made her moan and sigh with pleasure. Godric, he was so damn perfect.

She gave her virginity to him that night. And she never once regretted it despite the heartache and shed tears over him. _Never_.

* * *

_Tears welled up in her eyes even know, and they dripped down her face, which was numb from the pain of it all. She cried until there were no more tears left to cry. She gathered all of the memories, and locked them in a cabinet so that she would suffer no more._

* * *

He had broken up with her a week later, saying that it wouldn't work and their parents wouldn't approve of them.

_Liar._

There was now another girl hanging off of his arm. She couldn't help but think that she was prettier than that girl, that she deserved James more than she did. And whenever their eyes met in the corridors, a regretful, sorry look was exchanged for what they could've been. They could've been beautiful, unbelievable, _flawless_.

They would have been _perfect _together.

She wiped a traitorous tear away from her grey eyes. Why was it that _he _was the only person in this fucking dark world that could make her cry shamelessly, that _he _could shatter her disfigured heart into fissured, fractured shards of glass?

She was worthless.

Broken.

_Obsolete. _

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_'cause that leads to regret, diving in too soon_

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**A/N: Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


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